


It Begins in the Blood

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Series: The Richardson Vampires [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, M/M, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-04
Updated: 2011-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:23:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To protect his parents, Jared makes a deal that goes against everything he believes in.  Despite his fear, Jared intends to keep his end of the bargain, no matter what gets in his way.  But when a man Jared hasn’t seen in three years shows up just in time to prevent Jared from losing everything he is, Jared begins to wonder what kind of deal is worse—one with a known enemy, or one with Jensen Ackles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Begins in the Blood

It’s freezing. Jared has been in the room for less than sixty seconds and he’s already past the point of goosebumps, his skin now flat and ice-cold. When he shivers it’s violent, nothing like the fine tremors of a passing chill.

The cold isn’t a surprise; Jared hadn’t expected _death_ to feel any different.

The room is a room only by the simplest definition. It possesses four walls, a floor, and a ceiling. But there is no door—not the kind Jared can open—and no windows. Jared’s standing on a thick Persian rug, the design making him dizzy when he looks down. The couch is long and deep, upholstered in a dark navy blue and standing on clawed, wooden feet. In a room so dark and archaic, Jared would have expected burning torches or a fireplace. The room would be warmer that way. Instead, artificial light spills down from two pairs of sconces mounted in the thick stone walls. At least Jared expects they’re thick. The room is quiet, unnaturally so, even though the house he’d entered was on a busy street. He hasn’t heard a sound, not a single whistle from a draft of air, since Alex left him here.

“Hello?” Jared calls out. He’s not eager to get this business started, but waiting alone feels like an intentional torment.

There’s no echo from his shout. The stone walls absorb the noise and Jared tries not to think about the sort of sounds this room was built to snuff out.

A panel—and not the same one Jared was led in through—to the left of the couch begins to open with the shrieking scrape of stone-on-stone, ten times more numbing on the ears than nails running down a chalkboard. Jared stares into gaping black for a moment before a well-dressed figure fills the space.

Jared’s heart stops beating as if he’s been turned to stone. As if he’s become one of _them_.

“Jared, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you… Jared?” In less than a second, the man’s eyes take in everything from the tremble in Jared’s knees to the way his breath fogs in a fleeting cloud of white on every exhale. He turns to call back through the doorway: “Alex! Turn the heat on, now.”

Crossing the room, the man drags Jared to the couch and pushes him down, crouching to run his hands up and down Jared’s arms with a brisk, warming friction. Jared savors the influx of heat for only a moment before jumping up in shock and pushing the man away, noting the silken slide of expensive fabric under his fingers.

“Jensen?” Jared’s voice shakes. He blames it on the cold even though he can already feel the room beginning to warm. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“And you’re the second person to point that out to me tonight,” Jensen says. “At least you look surprised. Lyssa was _pissed_.”

Hearing Lyssa’s name, Jared suddenly remembers why he’s here, the sickening reason forced aside by the shock of seeing Jensen Ackles for the first time in three years. Desperate to show no fear in the face of his old nemesis, Jared holds his head high and meets Jensen’s intense stare.

“I made a deal.”

Jensen is unperturbed. “With Lyssa, I know. She was nearly able to keep it from me, too, but I have ears everywhere. I thought she knew better than to bother you.”

“She didn’t. I mean, it was my parents.”

Jensen bares his teeth, pointed canines digging into his bottom lip. “You’re Protected under my name, and that extends to your parents.”

“I don’t wear the mark.” Admitting it would be easier if Jensen wasn’t standing right in front of him. Jared had been Protected automatically until he turned eighteen; all minors were off-limits according to the Founding Laws. But the Padalecki family had no seal—no Patron to warn off other houses—relying on good behavior and a low profile to keep them safe.

Their approached had worked until now.

“What?” The steadily climbing temperature plummets in the wake of Jensen’s growl.

“I never wore your seal,” Jared says. To him, a seal was nothing more than a stamp of ownership, like tags on a dog collar, and Jared Padalecki was no one’s pet. “I don’t belong to you.”

“It wasn’t a brand, Jared!” The walls dampen Jensen’s outrage. “You don’t refuse Protection. Lyssa has always wanted you for herself, and now you’re telling me that she’s had a free pass all this time?”

Crossing his arms, Jared maintains a hard stare. There are chinks in his armor all over the place, but he’s not going to make it easy for Jensen to find them.

“Some vampires don’t get what they want.”

“Not from you, they don’t,” Jensen counters with unmistakable sarcasm, though Jared catches a fleeting spark of fondness in his eyes. “I learned that well.”

Jared remains sullen, a mask of disaffection. “Not well enough, apparently.”

“Is that why you think I’m here?”

“To take Lyssa’s place?” Jared asks. “I don’t see why else you’d bother to show up.”

“Jared—” Jensen stops and rethinks whatever he was about to say, depthless green eyes going soft momentarily.

Jensen looks exactly the same as he did when he disappeared from Richardson years ago—even his voice carries the same weight. He’d always cut a fine figure with his tailored suits and effortless style. Nothing touched Jensen that wasn’t the best money could buy, and that included personal company. Whereas the majority of Richardson’s vampires survived off the blood bank or crafted deals to get a bite of living flesh once in a while, Jensen and his family collected followers. Blood junkies and fang bangers, eager to bare their throats to the vamps like they were worth nothing more than the veins and arteries that laced beneath their skin.

Jared’s memory holds snapshots of all the men and women he’d watched Jensen flaunt while Jared was growing up, human and vampire alike flocking to his supernaturally good looks and deep pockets. That was, until he began to notice Jared. After that, the human groupies dropped off and Jensen pinned the weight of his attention on a lean teenager who refused Jensen’s gifts and spoken promises.

Jared could never be bought.

Rumors had swirled like a dust storm on the prairie after Jensen left. Jared had just started his first year at UT Richardson—the only college choice for anyone who grew up here—when the vampire heir stopped coming around. Misha, who ran one of the neutral bars in Richardson, said that Jensen had gone to join one of the national councils—a seat his father must have paid for. Others, like Jared’s high school buddy Brian, speculated that Jensen had killed someone and his father had him relocated.

Only Jared knew the real reason, and it was a truth he would never part with.

Jared clears his throat. “My deal is with Lyssa.”

“And her deal is with me,” Jensen snaps with a vicious bite, looking regretful as he turns his glassy eyes away from Jared. “I heard about your parents.”

“They had no choice,” Jared insists. His explanation comes out in a rush of stored-up words. “Alex kept involving the police, insisting that Mom and Dad hadn’t paid their blood tax in months, but I know they did. Then he sent men to vandalize the store during the day, scaring customers away. And he’d show up every night threatening my parents when they tried to leave. I thought if I went to Lyssa, she could make her brother stop.”

“They won’t bother your family anymore,” Jensen tells him, and Jared’s unable to define the emotion he hears in the vampire’s voice. “I’ve spoken with Lyssa and Alex. No matter what happens here tonight, I’m not throwing you back to the wolves.”

Jared can’t help himself. “What _is_ going to happen tonight? You’re supposed to be a thousand miles away, and now you’re interceding on behalf of my family?”

“I wanted the chance to see you. Pathetic, I know.”

Jared almost argues the point. In the past, he’d used many harsh and colorful words to describe Jensen and his actions, but no one, human or vampire, would have dared to call him pathetic.

“Mark or no, Lyssa had no right to make a deal with you, but she was desperate, apparently. Still, it didn’t take much for her to give up her blood claim and give me what I want.”

“I thought we established that you don’t always get what you want.”

Jensen grins as if Jared has just indulged him with a compliment. “From vampires I do. They’re not as complicated as you are, Jared. Doesn’t take much to figure them out. This town still belongs to the Ackles, and all these blood suckers want the same thing: to keep living in the haven my family built over a century ago. Most of them would never survive if they were forced to fend for themselves.”

“You threatened Lyssa with exile?”

With his fangs visible, Jensen’s smile goes from friendly to wicked. “I threatened Alex with exile, but I told Lyssa that I’d rip her throat out and leave her to die slowly, screaming in the sunlight until she starved, if she touched you.”

For a moment, Jared had forgotten Jensen’s power. Though they stood on opposite sides of death, Jared and Jensen had always possessed a kind of rapport with one another, a fierce war of wit and desire. When they were together, it was nothing short of explosive, and tonight Jared had fallen back into old patterns. Until now.

Jared has to remember that Jensen Ackles is not his long lost _friend_.

“So now I’m supposed to be yours?” Jared asks. “To the winner go the spoils, and all that bullshit.”

“I tried to make you mine once before.” Jensen sighs, too much of a refined predator to rise to the bait. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

Jared huffs out a humorless laugh, pacing around the imposing couch. “What then? Did you think I’d be so grateful that you saved me from a blood claim that I’d just bare my throat for you instead? God, you’re just like every other vampire in this town. Pulling strings— _our_ strings—and making deals to keep us all in line.” He stops and lets his anger get the better of him. “Maybe you set my parents up knowing they’d need protection! And you—you would know that I’d sacrifice my own blood before I let anything happen to them.”

“Is that really what you think of me?”

“It’s been three years, Jensen. I _don’t_ think of you.” Jared is lying, of course, but he keeps his frustration visible in his eyes, knowing Jensen has always been able to read him better than anyone.

Jared leans forward over the back of the couch, suddenly in need of the support. Jensen makes no move except to drop his eyes, but Jared knows he’s struck deep. He’s never needed silver or a stake to hurt this particular vampire.

“Why didn’t you fight Alex?” Jensen finally asks, steering their strange conversation into new waters. “You’ve never struck me as the kind to just give in and make a deal.”

“Alex made it clear that he’d like nothing more than to turn me into a bloodless corpse. With Lyssa, I knew she wanted something else, so I used that to bargain with.”

“The Jared I knew would rather die than let a vampire feed on him. You even hated the thought of it.”

“I didn’t want to die.”

Jensen studies him, his stare more invasive than a physical examination. “But you’re not afraid of dying, Jared. Blood claims scare you because you’re terrified of losing control, losing yourself. You wouldn’t willingly give anyone the power to hurt you like that.”

“I made the deal. I knew what I was asking for.”

“Right. _You_ made it,” Jensen points out, stepping closer to the couch. Only the width of the cushions separates them. “You even came up with your own terms, and I’m betting Lyssa gobbled those up like a fresh pint of AB negative.”

“Lyssa couldn’t drain me or kill me.” Jared defends his deal even though he’s beginning to realize how stupid it was. “And it would only be tonight. She wasn’t getting me more than once.”

“Once would have been all she needed to destroy you,” Jensen says sadly. Melancholy makes him look even colder—body carved out of ice. “Lyssa wouldn’t have needed to drain you in order to hurt you, Jared. She could have bitten you anywhere, and she knows exactly where to sink her fangs in to cause you the most pain. She might let the wounds bleed out before she healed you, or keep reopening the same cuts. She’d have gotten you so drunk with blood loss that you’d agree to anything.”

Jared can barely speak, but he summons his strength. “Still, I’d make the deal again.”

Jensen shakes his head and mocks Jared’s noble intentions. “Naturally, because you were sacrificing yourself for your family. No one backed you into this corner.”

Jared cuts in before Jensen’s words can do any more damage. “Threats were made.”

“You could have gone to Mackenzie. My sister would have helped you.”

“She would have summoned you and we’d have ended up right here, again,” Jared says, breaths coming too fast. “I chose to go to Lyssa. You” —Jared arms himself with sharp words— “You want to control me. It’s the same thing you’ve always wanted, Jensen. To take away my choice and turn me into one of your blood slaves.”

In the space of a blink, Jensen moves around the couch and forces himself into Jared’s personal space. Three years since they’ve stood this close, and now Jared’s the one looking down into the undead sharpness of Jensen’s green eyes. The height advantage changes nothing, though; Jared feels the same awe and fear he used to in Jensen’s presence.

“I would never do that,” Jensen says, his voice low and paralyzing. For a second Jared’s afraid that Jensen’s using some kind of compulsion on him, the words slipping through his defenses and attaching themselves to his mind as unquestionable truths. There have always been rumors that the vampires possessed that kind of power. But even if they did, Jared knows that Jensen would never cross that line with him.

Or so he hopes.

“I don’t want you to lose yourself,” Jensen continues, never letting Jared break eye-contact as if he wants Jared to see what the words cost him. “That terrifies you, and I don’t want you to be _scared_ of me. I want you whole and willing. And smiling,” he adds, mouth twisting up at the corner. “Because I want you— _this_ Jared—not some coerced man playing along with a scheme. Not some shell. And just for the record, I don’t keep blood slaves. I never have. I haven’t fed directly from a human in over four years.”

Caught in a standoff, Jared searches Jensen’s face for any lie in the truth but comes up empty. He’s not ready to deal with the knowledge that Jensen has denied himself a claim all this time. Jensen stayed loyal to the offer he’d made to Jared even after it was thrown back in his face, whereas Jared had done everything in his power to _forget_.

He lets out a deep exhale. “You should have just come and talked to me then. This way… I don’t know, Jensen. It feels wrong that you had to make a deal to save me.”

“I made a deal because it was _polite_ ,” Jensen clarifies with a smirk. “Like I said earlier, I could have killed Lyssa and you would’ve never known I was back in town. But I’m selfish and I wanted to see you.”

“You wanted me to know it was you.”

It’s Jensen’s turn to shrug.

“I pay my debts, Jensen. I don’t want to walk outta here with you holding this over my head, something you can pull out later when you’re feeling needy.”

“You were free to leave as soon as I was finished with Lyssa.”

Jared stares down at him. “What?”

“Alex didn’t tell you?” Jensen snorts. “Figures. He knew making you sweat was the only enjoyment he was going to get out of this deal.” In another flash of movement, Jensen’s sitting on the couch and Jared’s looking at the back of his head. Jensen presses a concealed button in the arm of the couch and the same door Jared walked in through slides open. “Go ahead. No one will get in your way.”

Jared wants to leave. Being holed up in a vampire’s soundproof snack chamber isn’t his idea of a good time. He’s heard too many stories about the sick pleasures vampires take when they fang a human. It’s said that their depravity knows no bounds.

And yet Jared isn’t moving towards the door. Instead, he sits between Jensen and the arm of the couch, reaching out for the hidden button and watching the door slide closed again.

Vampires are evil. That’s the mantra Jared grew up repeating to himself. They’re ruthless and cunning, and they rule Richardson with their games and their deals. Humans like Jared are tools—the disposable kind—and they’ve served the vampires for over a century. The humans kept their own mantra: stay in line, stay on the vampires’ good side and you survived.

But in all the years Jared has known Jensen, even watching him from afar before their lifelines crossed, he’s never seen him be violent or cruel aside from threatening his own kind. The Ackles were Founders, and maybe that title came with expectations of decorum, but Jared has yet to witness Jensen be anything close to _evil_. He’s arrogant, brash, and confident; Jensen knows what he wants and pursues it. A far cry from the atrocities carried out by other vampires.

If anything, the last three years appear to have softened Jensen to the point where Jared can see past the marble façade of immortality to the man who was trapped beneath.

Jensen is studying the stone blocks where the door had appeared as if he expects it to open again. “It’s been a long time since you’ve listened to me,” he says.

“Been a while since you’ve said anything I wanted to hear.”

Jensen smiles, but it fades quickly. He eyes the worn denim over Jared’s knees, mouth flat. Jared feels a pang of regret that he hadn’t dressed better for this reunion—Lyssa hadn’t requested he wear anything specific, so Jared had done his best to look casual and disinterested. Nothing special for the likes of that fanged bitch.

“What is it you think I want from you, Jared?”

Jared’s answer doesn’t require much thought. “You want to be my Patron.”

He’s shocked when Jensen folds over and laughs like—and Jared can’t believe he’s putting it this way—an idiot. To see this refined, confident, and beautiful vampire caught in the throes of a full body, shoulder-shaking laugh is a revelation against his previous knowledge about the vampires who’d surrounded him since birth. Even Jensen’s cheeks are flushed; Jared hadn’t known that was possible.

“Did I say something funny?” Jared asks with a bite of his own.

“Patron.” Jensen ponders on the word, setting his arm along the back of the couch. Jared leans away. “Such a stupid and pretentious word. I’ve never been comfortable with it.”

“It’s not the word,” Jared says, “it’s what’s behind it. Power, control, and everything I—”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t want to be your Patron,” Jensen cuts him off.

“What do you want to be?”

“Your boyfriend, but I guess we’d have to ‘date’ first. Unless you want to jump straight to being boyfriends. I’m fine with that, too.”

“Jensen—”

“Jared”—he continues with his interruptions—“three years ago I did everything wrong. I wanted to own you, possess you, and keep you as my human claim because that’s what I thought Protection was all about. Vampires had the power and humans needed us, which is why I thought you’d be willing to submit. I didn’t think I was asking too much of you. I thought offering a lifetime of Protection would be enough to sway you.”

“And now?” Jared steps cautiously, ever conscious of his lingering doubts.

“Protection is the least of it,” Jensen says. His fingers are skimming along the nape of Jared’s neck. Jared hadn’t realized he’d leaned back within their reach. “Protection under my name should have been given to you regardless of your choice, simply because I care for you. And I swear it’ll be granted to your entire family from tonight on, no matter what. I’ll have the seals made first thing in the morning.”

“And you want nothing in return?”

“I’m getting the opportunity to talk to you again. Really _talk_. That’s all I can ask for.”

 _But that’s not all you want_ , Jared adds in his mind. Faced with this unexpected version of his former tormentor—equally as beautiful but infinitely more intriguing—Jared decides that simply talking isn’t going to be enough for him either. Later, if he comes to his senses and decides this is a mistake, he’ll blame what he does next on the mythical notion of compulsion.

He kisses Jensen. Or, he tries. Jared moves forward at the same moment the vampire turns, Jared’s lips landing on the slope of Jensen’s cheekbone instead. His skin is cold but not as icy as Jared expects. It’s like a tingling burst of wintergreen on his lips. Not stopping to reconsider, Jared quickly moves his mouth down to Jensen’s, slipping over his lips before Jensen can say anything.

A kiss between a human and a vampire has no business being chaste, and this one follows that precedent. Not that Jared’s ever kissed a vampire before in his life, but it feels right for their mouths to open wide almost instantly, tongues welcomed as ambassadors to future pleasure. Instinct steers Jared away from pressing too far into Jensen’s mouth; he keeps Jensen’s tongue prisoner on his side of the kiss, sucking lightly. Otherwise there would be fangs to deal with and the last thing Jared needs is for his tongue to bleed in Jensen’s mouth. Not that a tiny nick or two wouldn’t spice things up…

Jared tries not to think about it. Fortunately Jensen’s a master of distraction, taking the experience Jared has and rendering it useless. The vampire uses Jared’s mouth in new and delicious ways, licking into the depths and _feasting_. He delves and takes until Jared’s a mindless mess, reduced to sensations and impulses.

Somewhere in the midst of their kiss, Jared ends up with his knees spread over Jensen’s legs, riding his thighs like a wanton boy, eager for anything he’s given. Jensen’s lips are plush, warmed from the constant pressure of Jared’s mouth against them. Any lingering chill Jared feels is lost to the heat of what’s building between him and the steel-muscled vampire he’s writhing against.

In every other sexual encounter he’s had, Jared’s the one in control—the one who demands. But Jensen doesn’t need to say a word to have Jared responding, as if their bodies have been cut off from all rational thought. Jared can’t bring himself to resent the switch, not when Jensen’s equally lost to his need, fingers just shy of bruising where they’re pushed up under Jared’s shirt. He stops worrying about whether or not Jensen’s going to steal his soul; if he had a moment to think clearly, Jared might admit that his soul was claimed years ago.

If that’s the case, Jared has nothing left to lose.

Circling his arms behind Jensen’s neck, Jared tips to the side and arches his neck. So far he can feel the stretch of muscle and tendon, his pulse racing beneath his skin.

Jensen stops immediately, nostrils flaring. “What are you doing?”

“Letting you have me,” Jared tells him, keeping his throat exposed.

Jensen narrows his eyes to slits, considering the offer. “I already have you.”

“But I thought—” Shock swallows the rest of Jared’s sentence as Jensen leans forward in a blur of motion and wraps his pale hand around Jared’s throat, bending him like a sapling. Jensen’s fangs descend to their full length, white daggers poised inches away from Jared’s carotid.

“You’re worth so much more than your blood, Jared,” he whispers. “I don’t need you to bare your throat for me.” He leans into the offered skin and drags his full lips across it slowly. “Though it certainly is a _very_ nice throat,” he adds with a low chuckle that vibrates through Jared’s blood. “I can think of plenty of things I’d like to do to it, but not tonight.”

Releasing a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, Jared sags back into Jensen’s lap. Jensen grins—his canines back to their normal, slightly exaggerated length—and starts to shimmy Jared’s shirt up his torso, yanking it off and laying it on the couch. Compelled to see Jensen’s bloodless skin against his own, Jared returns the favor, roughly stripping Jensen out of his expensive jacket and shirt and tossing them on the floor.

“Careful with those.”

“You can buy more,” Jared says, swiftly shutting Jensen up with his lips.

Bare-chested, they press together, hips grinding instinctively. Jensen’s chest is hard and smooth, pale like a polished river rock, and Jared can’t stop running his hands over the flawless skin. Even in death, Jensen is physical perfection, and that’ll never change. Jared doesn’t match up, and he’d be ashamed if Jensen wasn’t thoroughly showing his appreciation for Jared’s living—and therefore imperfect—flesh.

“I forgot what being warm feels like,” Jensen says, his hands pushing below the waist of Jared’s jeans. “Am I too cold?”

“I like it,” Jared responds, lip caught between his teeth as he works the zipper open on Jensen’s pants, searching out more alabaster skin. “Like an ice cube melting on my skin, only much, much better.” With the way cleared, Jared pulls Jensen’s cock out of his slacks, staring slack-jawed as it thickens and distends. There’s more color to Jensen’s skin here, a pinkish tinge that spreads the length of his cock and covers the soft swell of his balls. Fine brown pubic hair tickles Jared’s fingers as he brushes them across the skin between Jensen’s thighs.

Jensen is the sculpted epitome of porn and art, and Jared’s never seen anything so mouth-wateringly sensual in his life.

The vampire smirks, fangs lending a threat to the expression. “Surprised? There _is_ blood in my body, you know.”

“I know,” Jared mutters, “I just— _fuck_. I want to taste it.”

Jensen’s hips snap up like the crack of a whip. Jared hangs onto his mount, rolling down onto Jensen’s groin. Jensen roars and rips through denim to salivate over the sight of Jared’s flushed and heavy cock hanging out through the tatters of his jeans and underwear.

Holding Jared’s cock against his own in one of his cool, silken palms, Jensen begins to stroke them both slowly. His mouth is never far from Jared’s, whispering every little pleasure and secret right across Jared’s lips. His control shatters when Jensen twists his hand unexpectedly; Jared cries out and sinks his teeth into the solid muscle above Jensen’s mute heart. Jensen goes stiff, holding their climaxes at bay, and waits for Jared to meet his eyes.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“Thought you were already dead,” Jared says without thinking, wary until Jensen smiles.

“Then you’re going to drive me really, really crazy.”

“I will. I promise.”

Sliding his fingers over Jensen’s other hand, Jared finds the edge of Jensen’s imposing heirloom ring with the pad of his middle finger. The white gold, engraved with the coat of arms of Jensen’s house, is cold against his skin. Without warning Jensen of his plan and without flinching, Jared drags his finger across the raised point of a white gold spear. It breaks the skin easily and Jensen reacts before Jared even realizes he’s bleeding.

“Jared!” Jensen tries to force him away, but with one hand pushing and the other holding tight, Jared’s not going anywhere.

“I want you to have this,” Jared says, watching a drop of blood bloom above the cut. “It’s not much.”

Jensen looks broken, eyes like shattered stained glass. “That’s all it’s going to take.”

“What do you mean?”

“I won’t need to drink much to get addicted.”

With the tip of his finger, Jared paints Jensen’s lips crimson and watches darkness swallow the green in the vampire’s eyes. “Maybe I want you addicted to me. You won’t be able to disappear again.”

“Only you could force me to leave.” Jensen’s voice is barely a thread of sound. His skin is nearly white, freckles muted to a pale dusting, and his eyes are black. He inhales, lips parted, and the whites of his eyes are suddenly laced with vivid red lines, the fine branches of arteries.

When Jared gasps at the sight, Jensen closes his eyes.

“No, Jensen. It’s okay,” Jared reassures him. “I want to see.”

But Jensen keeps his eyes shut, lips quivering as he asks, “Can I have it, Jay?”

No one but Jensen has ever called him _Jay_ , and Jared hasn’t heard the nickname in three years. It takes him back to the last time he saw Jensen in Richardson—the day he’d thought about saying yes to the vampire, giving in, until his pride got the better of him. When Jared’s answer was no, Jensen had turned and walked away without another word and he hadn’t returned.

“Yes.” Jared gives Jensen the answer he should have received three years ago, even though neither of them were the men they needed to be. Tonight their world has shifted. “Take it.”

Jared’s permission sets off a dizzying sequence of events, starting with Jensen’s tongue licking the blood from his lips, the tip of the supple muscle turned candy red. Were he to suck on it, Jared doubts it would be as sweet. The vampire savors every taste, squeezing around their full cocks each time his tongue ventures for another smear of copper tang.

When there’s none left, Jensen goes straight to the source, sucking Jared’s middle finger past iron-stained lips. His eyes snap open as he devours the full flavor of Jared’s blood, tongue coaxing more from the jagged little cut.

Jared’s never felt the strain of using his entire body to get off. His lips are numb from their bout of kissing, and his finger’s surrounded by warmth and suction. His skin is alive where it touches Jensen’s. By itself, frottage is good for foreplay and not much else, but combined with the sensations from the rest of his body, Jared’s on the edge faster than he ever thought possible.

The stinging starts in Jared’s hand, quick pin-pricks running up past his wrist and into his elbow. _Circulating_. It borders on pain until the needles reach his heart, and from there it spreads like honey through his veins—as if something in Jensen’s saliva is changing his blood.

“What’re you…”

Jensen shudders, releasing Jared’s middle finger after one last lick. “It won’t hurt you.”

An hour ago Jared wouldn’t have trusted the breathy words, but he lets his fear go, arching into Jensen’s touch. He’s not an instrument to be played; Jared wants Jensen panting and keening from his touch, too, so he lifts one pleasure-heavy hand and wraps it over Jensen’s, forcing him to tighten his grip and stroke faster.

“I won’t go back,” Jensen tells him, eyes pinched at the corners as he fights release. The blood and darkness have seeped out, leaving his eyes focused and green. “I can’t walk away from you again.”

Jared flicks his tongue over the tip of Jensen’s fang. He knows there’s blood when Jensen’s muscles seize up and his erection throbs against Jared’s. Together, their fingers slip and twist in figure eights around swollen cockheads, gliding through their mixed precome. It’s not the most comfortable handjob Jared’s ever gotten, but the mostly dry rub of skin-on-skin is dull compared to the fire in his blood and the thrill of doing this with Jensen—Jared’s foe-cum-lover.

“Wouldn’t let you if you tried,” Jared says, pulling out of the kiss and seeing a drop of blood on Jensen’s lip. He licks it away before Jensen can, getting himself dragged back into a melee of tongues and teeth.

Jensen releases his mouth, hand pumping steadily. “Because you’re mine?”

“Because you’re _mine_ ,” Jared says, knowing the truth before he’s finished saying it. Jensen Ackles has one weakness, and it took Jared this long to find it.

Ten more strokes or two, Jared doesn’t keep count. Their eyes don’t waver as they come, Jared only heartbeats behind Jensen, and Jared feels more exposed in those few seconds than he has all night. But with Jensen’s eyes so open right in front of him, he doesn’t consider it a cost.

The sconces begin to flicker and dim, shadows creeping up the stone walls and threatening the two men—technically one man and one member of Richardson’s undead—lying together on the couch. Jared had completely forgotten where they were.

Jensen sighs and sits up. “We should go. Lyssa’s hospitality is nonexistent on a regular day. I’m sure she’s raging by now.”

“Will I need to watch my back?” Jared asks, slipping into his shirt and fastening his jeans. The denim is ripped and frayed in new places, but Jared hopes they’ll hold together long enough to get to his car.

Jensen shakes his head. “Lyssa can pitch a fit—and she will, trust me—but she won’t even think about trying to hurt you now. No one will.”

“Because I have a big, bad vampire in my pocket?”

“Vampire? Obviously. Big? Thank you.” Jensen grins, and even with the fangs it’s endearing. “As for bad, let’s try all of this again in my bed and you can let me know.”

Jared can’t resist teasing the vampire. He can’t quite believe he’s allowed to. “You’ll be graded.”

“I was always good at bribing my teachers.”

“And I’m looking forward to that.”

Jensen doesn’t bother to redress, sliding into his dress shirt and letting it hang open. Jared stares but Jensen just shrugs and says, “You ripped off all the buttons.”

Jared can live with that. It’s not as if Jensen’s going to be affected by the crisp fall air once they get outside.

Lyssa and her rotting fang of a brother wisely stay hidden while Jensen leads Jared out of the stone room and up a steep flight of stairs—not the same route Jared was treated to when he was brought in. The stairs lead to nothing but more darkness until Jensen’s fingers find a hidden catch in the wall, opening a thick stone door that spills them out into one of the manor’s many gardens.

It would be easy to get lost in the magnificent display of stars above their heads, immortal beacons of light that will forever remain untouchable. But Jared prefers the immortal at his side, their hands clasped together as they hurry away from the house.

Jared had expected to leave angry, exhausted, or broken. Maybe all three. And he hadn’t counted on being released before sunrise; Lyssa wouldn’t want her new prize sullied by some rogue fang so soon after claiming him, and every vampire in Richardson knew that any human out alone after dark was just _asking_ to be a blood donor, willing or not.

He’s safe with Jensen, though, and what’s crazier is that he’s happy, smiling as he unlocks the Impala and lets Jensen in the passenger side.

“I’ve always loved your car,” Jensen says. “Can I drive it sometime?”

“Only if you behave.”

The vampire shrugs. “Driving is overrated anyway.”

They both laugh, Jared almost manic as the relief catches up with him and steals his senses. Jensen waits until he calms down, a faint green glow in his eyes. When the car’s quiet, Jensen clears his throat.

“Look, Jared. I know tonight happened fast. You might change your mind.”

“Jensen—”

“But I want you to know that I meant what I said. Your family’s Protected no matter that. I’m a vampire of my word.”

“And I’m a man of my word,” Jared says. “You’re mine, Jensen. I’m pretty sure you’ve been mine for a while and I just didn’t know it. But I do now.” He falters, looking out on the dark road ahead. The night is fearsome in Richardson—every shadow masks a new danger. “Yeah, we’ve got a lot to work out. It’s not gonna be easy, but I’m not letting you go.”

Moonlight glints off the razor sharp edge of Jensen’s fangs when he grins.

“So, Jay. Where do we start?”

Jared turns the key in the ignition and lets the Impala roar. Whatever’s lurking in the night had better steer clear.

“I think you said something about your house and a bed.”

 

THE BEGINNING.

 

  
**WELCOME TO RICHARDSON, TEXAS.  
GOOD LUCK TRYING TO LEAVE.**   


**Author's Note:**

> This story is based in part on the YA series of books, _The Morganville Vampires_. I was inspired by one particular scene, and at that point stopped reading and started to write this instead, so the worlds differ in several ways. But there are definitely themes I brought in from the book, as well as some of the terminology.


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